Figure This Out
by Life'zFuzzyLogicx
Summary: You left me twelve years ago. There's nothing you can do for me. If I had a dick, you'd be sucking it.  TxG3


**Prologue:**** Someday**

_Maybe someday  
We'll figure all this out  
Try to put an end to all our doubt  
Try to find a way to make things better now_

_- Rob Thomas

* * *

_

_._

_._

_._

_Restore._

_To bring back into existence; or reestablish._

An exhausted sigh escaped my lips as I flipped the flimsy pages of my grandfather's old dictionary. It had taken me seven hours and forty-three minutes to find that word. For use of the word emphasis, I will repeat what I stated less than five whole seconds ago. It had taken me seven hours and forty-three minutes to find the word restore. That's almost eight whole hours of endless searching. What good did eight hours of reading the dictionary do me? Apparently, none! All of that, only to discover that it was utterly useless to this letter I'm finding my future depends on.

This is what I have so far.

"_Dearest Mother…,"_

Oh, I'm sorry. Were you expecting more? Well too bad, because that's all I've got. I know! A whole eight hours and that's all I could come up with? Pretty depressing if you ask me. It's blatant proof that I'm not all that much of the genius people claim me to be. Sure, I'm not an idiot. I've got the second highest GPA in my class, and I'm known for leading the scholastic decathlon team to victory two straight years in a row. But when it takes you seven, excuse me, _eight _hours to find one word in the dictionary, you begin to question your inner sanity. I'm not crazy though. At least, I'm pretty sure I'm not crazy. I speak to my mind like it's a person a lot of times, like I'm doing now. But crazy? No. Just extremely determined, or as my dad would say, stubborn.

It's not my fault really. I was born with a million and one defects.

Defect number one: Can-never-keep-my-room-clean-itis, because my room is the most disgusting one you will ever lay eyes on. It's darn right filthy.

Defect number two: Can-never-get-a-boyfriend-itis, because I can never get a boyfriend. Don't get me wrong. I'm not ugly at all. I actually might say, if I tried, I'd have the potential to be attractive. I just don't care how I look, or what I say. That is really why I can never get a boyfriend. I either scare them off with my snarky sense of humor and wit, or the complete opposite. I get all clammed up and can't get one thing to fall out of my mouth, which is just stupid, because I can never get myself to shut up any other time. But whatever, the point is, I'm a cat lady in the process of making. Insert dramatic sigh here.

To keep from boring the crap out of you though, I'll skip ahead just a tad bit.

Defect number one million and one: Can-never-get-what's-stuck-on-the-tip-of-my-tongue-off-the-tip-of-my-tongue-itis. This is what so stupidly caused me to spend half of my uneventful day cooped up in this poor excuse of a bedroom. You see, my idiotic birthmother randomly decided to email me. Yes, this definitely shows her undying love for me. She ran away twelve years ago, and until this morning I hadn't heard from her since. How does she choose to reconnect? Through a stupid email, that did not once include the words "I'm" and "sorry." So, I decided it would be smart of me to write her a very a descriptive message showing her just how much I don't appreciate her contacting me. I, of course thought of throwing in all of that, "You can get back the years you've missed, and my heart will never get back the pain you've caused it," crap. And what better way to write it than in a letter that's written quite impressively? Consider that plan failed. I thought it'd be super edgy to start out with one word, and then explain that word, and then explain the relevance of that word. My problem was finding the word my mind was thinking of! And after eight hours of searching I finally found it. Only to realize how completely corny my letter began to sound as I started using it. How pointless. Why I'm stressing over a letter to a woman I can't stand? I'd rather not try and figure out.

My fingers floated above the keys for a minute, and I stared blankly at the screen. "Hmmm…" I muttered.

Suddenly words worked there way into the message as I typed what I truly felt.

_You left me twelve years ago. There's nothing you can do for me. If I had a dick, you'd be sucking it._

My obnoxious giggle sounded throughout the room, "Ah, what the heck."

_Message sent.

* * *

_

_._

_._

_._

**A/N: Continue or to not? I really like this character. So, please. Support me in this and review.**

**-Nicolette(:**


End file.
